The Heir of Hufflepuff
by umskiptingur
Summary: The new Muggle Studies teacher heads to Hogwarts, along with a bunch of really big and slightly evil textbooks, determined to do her Hufflepuff heritage proud. Little does she suspect what's in store. . .
1. And we're off like a herd of turtles

Ok, so I was walking down the street last Monday, and on the way I saw this little fuzzy pink bunny staring at me with its big shiny pink eyes and it was just so cute I had to pick it up and pet it and name it Snuffysniffles.  And now, I just can't get rid of it.  It won't leave me.  It dug in its little fuzzy pink claws and it won't let go.  It speaks to me.  It tells me I must write this story or it will eat me with its big shiny pink teeth.  It calls to me.  Obey the Snuffysniffles.  I must...

------

That being said, this is NOT my idea, it's the idea of an insane bunny-rabbit named Snuffysniffles, so feel free to be as mean with it as you like!  Go ahead.  Throw it to the roaring octopuses.  Use it for bowling practice on weekends.  Beat it up with little fuzzy pink sticks.  You know you want to.

------

Alfie Rockbank snored softly in her corner of the train compartment, her head resting peacefully against the grease-smudged window.  She was having a beautiful dream, a really beautiful dream, a dream in which she was riding high above the world on the back of a dragon whose name was Mr. Murphy, had purple spots on his back, one of those really beautiful Norwegian ones.  And seated beside her was a wizard, a really beautiful wizard, and he was Norwegian too -

Her friend, Elly Adalbert, glanced at her with a smile before returning again to her book, _My Best Friend's a Muggle_, by Philomela Wigg.  It was the happiest book she had ever seen in her life - with its colourful dancing illustrations of Muggle bliss, it practically oozed Cheering Charm.  It was part of a larger educational series by the same author, tempting young witches and wizards with such delights as _Mommy, What's a Mudblood?_ and _Some Wizards are Special_.

Alfie had groaned when she saw Elly sneaking it into her shopping pot on their most recent trip to Flourish and Blotts: "Just because you're teaching Muggle Studies doesn't mean you need to go out buy every book on Muggles in the store," she had protested.  "Besides, you've already got _Muggle Psychology_ and that ridiculous _Broomsticks are for Floors: A Study of Muggle Mentality through the Ages_.  You would think that you were lecturing a roomful of Aurors, not children."  "It's an insight into the most current trends in the depiction of Muggles in juvenile literature," Elly had said defensively, "and it's half price."  Alfie only sighed and pretended not to know her as they wandered deeper into the shop.  Luckily for Alfie, she was blissfully unaware that her friend had brought it with her onto the Hogwarts Express and was now studying at it intently as they waited for the train to leave the station.

Elly looked up again from her book.  The train still wasn't moving.  It was hot and stuffy in their compartment, and there was no one else in sight, despite the dust and noise and excitement that could be heard all around them.  Maybe it was the large STAFF ONLY THANK YOU mark that she had set on the door.  She yawned.

"Hello," said the little girl in the bottom of the left-hand page, "My name is Editha!  She was wearing a frilly purple robe, and waving violently.  She took a running leap onto the next page to give a big hug to a somewhat stunned-looking girl dressed in plaid shorts, a massive green bathrobe and running shoes.

"This is Candice!" exclaimed Editha, "She's my very best friend!"  Editha proceeded to drag Candice around the corner off the page with a strum of harp music.

Insight or not, this was going to be a very long trip.

A shadow fell across the floor as the door to the compartment rolled open.  Elly turned and blinked.  A stranger of the tall, dark and definitely not handsome type stared back at her.  "This is the new staff car, I see," he said dryly.

He looked somewhat unsure of himself - he must be one of the new Hogwarts teachers too, she thought to herself.  _Be nice_, thought Elly, _make friends, influence people_.  She tried to fight the icky feeling crawling down her spine, the one you get when a really reeky tattered old wizard stumbles onto the Knight Bus and the only empty seat is the one right beside you and you catch yourself muttering some kind of sick reversal of a summoning charm under your breath even though you know it's not right and -  _Smile._

"Hello!" she said with a bright smile, reaching out her hand, "I'm Eloise.  I'm the new Muggle Studies professor.  Call me Elly.  It's a pleasure to meet you!

There was a slight pause.  He looked as if he wanted nothing more than to slam the door right back again in her face, if that had been in fact possible given that the door had no hinges.  He looked as if she opened her mouth one more time, he just might transfigure the door into something you could slam.  He did not take her hand.

A perky voice piped up from her open book, which was getting impatient:  "Editha says, it's time to turn the page!"

"Part of your research, no doubt," the newcomer said sardonically, and sat down.

"As a matter of fact, it is," Elly informed him, and shut the book as quickly as she could without seeming obviously embarrassed.  She reached into her bag and pulled out _Muggle Psychology_ - it was slightly longer than _Muggle Mentality through the Ages_ - and began to read it as intently as possible.  There was a silence in the air, broken only by the occasional snore from Alfie.

A very, very long trip.


	2. Snipey Snapey Slytherin

Elly churned through five minutes of mind-crossing blah-blah-bhal-bahl taken somewhere randomly from the middle of the book in complete silence before working up enough politeness to try speaking again.

Her fellow teacher was sitting stiffly at the opposite end of the compartment, as far away from her and her friend as possible.  He was staring at the door, because staring out the window was already taken and he didn't seem to like sharing.

"This - is this your first year teaching at Hogwarts?" she asked.

He turned to look at her, with a spider-fly kind of disgust.  "No," he said decidedly.

"Oh, so you've got lots of experience then," she said, "Teaching.  This is my first year.  I haven't been to Hogwarts in years - not since I graduated.  It's a strange feeling to be going back, isn't it?  By the way, what's your name?"

"Snape," said the wizard somewhat uncomfortably, and shifted in his seat.

Something about the hair, the voice, the uncomfortable shifting, it all triggered ancient memories to start stirring themselves.  "Oh, I remember you!" exclaimed Elly in a sudden outburst.  "My first year at Hogwarts - you were -"  Him.  The creepy Slytherin who was always running around in the dirty black polyester robes never washing his hair.  And there were whispers that he was working for The-One-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.  All now-dead Dark Lords aside, Snape had always thoroughly terrified her.  "You were in your seventh year," she finished, feeling extremely stupid and wondering if there was a spell for melting through floors.

"I don't recall," said Snape.

"I had glasses," said Elly helpfully.  "I ran into you once, by accident, on the second-floor corridor, and dropped my books onto your foot and you -"

"Adalbert, isn't it?" interrupted Snape suddenly.  "Hufflepuff, I believe."

Elly nodded, but didn't look him in the eye.

The train finally had the decency to start moving.

With that, Alfie's head banged loudly against the windowpane as the carriage jolted forward and she woke up with a start.  Her tall, handsome Norwegian had been unexpectedly replaced by an irritated, aging professor with a face that had just swallowed earwax.  "Hello there," she said cheerfully, "You must be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.  Dumbledore told me you'd be coming.  Nice to meet you at last!

Snape looked even more irritated than ever.  "You must be mistaken," he said shortly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Alfie apologized generously, "I thought that we were the only teachers who hadn't already arrived.  But you're a teacher too?  What do you teach?"

"Potions," snapped Snape.  Elly closed her eyes behind her book and tried not to moan.  Alfie, several years younger than Elly, had never once seen Snape before - Elly couldn't ever remember hearing him called by his first name, whatever it was - and he had never come up in any of their conversations, either.  There really was no hope.

"Oh," said Alfie, "That must be interesting.

"Indeed," said Snape.

"I'm teaching Ancient Runes," Alfie told him, "I studied them two years in Iceland under Galdra-Jón.

"And your name is?" asked Snape at last.

"Aelfgyva," said Alfie, thankfully without asking him to call her anything else.

"It's not a common name," said Snape.  It was the nicest thing he had said all day.  The effort seemed to tire him and he turned back to staring the door.

Silence fell.


	3. The Pink Plaid Shadow of the Past

_Muggle Concepts: Part 1.  Flight: Hypothetical Reconstructions of Muggle Behavioural Models Regarding (see diagram 3.b.i).  First Theorem: Malarkey's Maxim (see footnote 3 5/6).  Bird-Based Flight: Mechanical Broomstick Mechanisms (see Figure 4).  See also Aerodynamics, Muggle Conceptions of.  _As much as Elly loved her Muggles, the train couldn't arrive at its destination soon enough.

There was a knock on the door, and the door rolled back to reveal the same cartful of sugar delights that Elly had always remembered as being just a little bit larger.  "Hungry, anyone?" came a cheerful voice from the hallway.

"Pumpkin pasties!" squealed Alfie with joy, rummaging through her pockets for some loose Knuts.  Snape twitched slightly.  "Want some too, Ee-ee?"  Elly shook her head.  Alfie was twenty-one, and hid the strong librarian streak within her rather well at times.  Too well.  It terrified Elly to think of her trying to manage a classroom full of little screaming troll-goblins.  Little screaming troll-goblins with wands.  Elly shuddered.  Everyone knew teachers were old, cranky and lived out their days complaining about their jobs in the mustry dark staff room and having no social lives.  Some of them probably hadn't left Hogwarts in _centuries_, not even over the summer.  It all made her feel very small and doomed and un-teacher-like.  They were both doomed.

_Eloise, Eloise, what have you done?_ she moaned softly to herself.

Elly had been really and truly jaw-floor-voiceless stunned only twice in her life.  The first time was the day, not so long after her eleventh birthday, when an owl crashed into her parents' front window, leaving behind a few white feathers and a letter with her name on it.  The second time was the day many years later when the very same owl - older now, and somewhat wiser - had arrived with a second letter addressed to her:

_Dear Miss Adalbert,_

_We are delighted to offer you the position of Professor of Muggle Studies at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  Although you had initially applied for the temporary position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher while our current instructor is on sabbatical, several other vacancies have also come up recently and we would be delighted for you to join our teaching staff._

_Yours raspberry-cordially,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_PS Your friend Miss Rockbank will be joining you in the position of Ancient Runes Master._

Of the two, Elly was not sure which had been the greater surprise.

It had been quite a shock to realize at age eleven that the bed-time stories her father had told her as a little girl about dragons and goblins and people who could turn into animals, which she thought she had thoroughly grown out of, were actually _true_.  Looking back, the whole event didn't seem to be such a shock to him as it had to the rest of the family - he acted almost as if he had expected it.

Her mother, on the other hand, had been furious.  She had already made plans for Elly to attend the same school she herself had gone to years before - had gone through all the preparations, had even bought the uniform, which was pink plaid and had a bow at the collar.  Her first reaction to the letter had been to call the police to report it as a nuisance prank, and she hadn't been pleased when her husband assured her over dinner that it was perfectly genuine.  Elly, whose only concern at the time was to avoid spending seven years dressed as a stuffed teddy bear, had managed to wheedle her mother into letting her go despite having no real idea of what Hogwarts - or even a wizard - was.

It certainly wasn't all she'd expected it to be.  She'd never had illusions of herself shrinking down into a cat or a dog or a purple pony and sneaking through the streets solving mysteries and making mischief.  She was never one for fantasy, and had never once while at Hogwarts read a single _Flash the Flying Unicorn_ book, those criminally sappy fantasies about a flying blue unicorn with a big jewel in the middle of her forehead that her friends used to stash under their beds.  The very idea of a unicorn flying was enough to make her shudder, much less one that was blue.  And while she didn't doubt the existence of dragons and phoenixes and the like, she never really expected to ever have the opportunity of meeting one.  But still, she had always pictured there being more - _opportunities_ as in the wizarding world.  A stable job helping to keep the gears of society in motion.  A nice little desk at the Ministry of Magic.  Spotless and organized, tucked into a cozy corner somewhere.  Maybe even a window.

The problem with wizards however, is that despite their ridiculously long life-spans, _retire_ just isn't a word in their vocabulary.  _Nepotism_ frequently _is_, she had discovered, along with cronyism and graft and all those other nasty little words hanging out in the dark alleys of the dictionary.  Her search for some decent, steady, bill-paying work was turning out to be nowhere near as simple as it sounded.

Elly had never really considered teaching as a career, but since jobs weren't exactly coming out of her ears, when she heard that the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts was taking a year off to do a little research in the field - somewhere on a sunny Caribbean beach, no doubt - she jumped at the chance.  She didn't expect to get the job, of course, but she had sent off an owl with her short list of qualifications (one year in Estonia researching vampire potatobats, two in Iceland studying the properties of puffling feathers) and hoped for the best.  And then, she got the letter.  And was stunned.

These were the only two surprising events in Elly's life.  It was almost with regret that she realized these only surprises had come by the afternoon post.  A sudden longing for true excitement swirled up within her, the irrational desire to leap up in her seat and do something utterly and completely crazy that she would probably regret for the rest of her life:  screech out an Estonian love-yodel at the top of her lungs, transmute Malarkey's Maxim and every last Muggle Concept into tiny dancing hippogriffs and Snape into a large, pink bunny with a plaid bow around its neck.  She squashed it immediately under several pounds of ten-letter words.


	4. A Short Introduction

There is a book, found in the dustiest corner of the darkest bookshelf at Flourish and Blotts - and as everyone knows, no one does dark and dusty quite like Flourish and Blotts - called _Hufflepuffs who Hit it Big_, a slim little collection of inspirational stories by Martina Hedge.  Ironically, Martina was a Ravenclaw.

----

"It doesn't get any smaller, does it?"  Alfie cricked her neck to stare up at the massive towers of Hogwarts, lit a faint reddish colour in the sunset.  Strange shadows slowly crept across its walls in the fading light, like a Potions experiment gone terribly wrong.  A low moaning sound greeted them from high above; the ivy trembled nervously in the wind.  Far, far away, the Willow whomped uneasily.

If anything, the place seemed larger than ever, Alfie thought miserably, glancing over her shoulder at Elly, who was struggling to tame her luggage and didn't bother to reply.  Elly wouldn't see the change anyway - she was one of those witches who could have met the Dark Lord himself in a dark alley and notice only, in the last few final fleeting moments of her cruelly shortened life, that he was going slightly bald on top.  An uncomfortable feeling gnawed at her toes.  _Running_.  Running away somewhere sunny and sandy and surfy and _hot_.  A palm tree dropping bananas and coconuts and colourful little drinks with umbrellas into her hand.  White beach surrounded by blue ocean as far as the eye could see.  Unfortunately, palm trees were unlikely to be paying the bills any time soon.  There really was no hope.  Her stomach churned.

"Welcome to Hogwarts!" a high, squeaky voice exclaimed from somewhere directly behind Alfie, causing her to jump in terror.  "Or, I should say," it added reflectively, "Welcome _back_ to Hogwarts.  I've been waiting for you."

Alfie whipped her head around to stare.  There was no one there.  She felt her throat tighten in terror.

_Look down_," the voice prompted her patiently.  A smiling, bouncing gnomish little creature met her eyes.

"Oh, Professor Flitwick!" she exclaimed in relief.  "It's so wonderful to see you again!"

"It's a pleasure to see you too, Miss Rockbank," he nodded.  "But come in, come in," he urged, waving her on towards the massive door.  "You must have had a terribly long exhausting trip to get here and you'll be starving by now.  No sense standing out here chattering in the cold until I start looking like a large roast turkey.  The big banquet's starting soon and it'll be a feast to end all feasts, this one.  It's been in the preparation for weeks.  And, of course it'll be your big Hogwarts debut.  Wouldn't want to miss it for anything, I suspect, eh?  Three new teachers in one year - this hasn't happened in, well, since _You-Know-Who_ died.  Practically a record, I'd say."  He paused to breathe.

_Too.. many.. pumpkin.. pasties_... thought Alfie weakly as she followed him.  _Sugar.. is.. evil.. must die..._

"A little help with the luggage?" Elly called out faintly from the bottom of the hill.


	5. An Old Nemesis

_Adalbert, Eloise_.  Always first, whether she wanted to be or not.

The short, frightened little girl pushed forward from the comfort of the crowd towards the towering old hat that whispered cheerfully into your ears and smelled funny.

"Hmmm, well, let's see now.  Eloise Adalbert.  Hmmmmm, yes.  Not a bad head you've got there on those shoulders.  Not the best I've seen, but still-" Elly felt her ears growing red under the stares of a hundred thousand eyes as the hat hemmed and hawed.  _Does it really matter so much?_ she thought impatiently, _All this Gryffindor-Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff-Slytherin-mlumpf-mlumpfy, it's just weird.  Who really cares?_

"Hmm hmm," said the hat, trying not to laugh at her.   "Well, your sense of humour could use a little tweaking, but you're dedicated, you've got enough drive in you to beat the smarty-pants off the best of them, and you wouldn't give up on your friends for the world.  And with that, I hereby declare thee Lady - HUFFLEPUFF!"

_Hufflepuff_.  The kind of name you would give your pet bunny, if you were the Sparkly-Jewel-Flash type.

----

"Please be seated," Dumbledore said, raising his hands in a welcoming gesture.

Dazed, Elly found herself squeezed between a tall, angular woman she seemed to remember as Professor Vector, the old Arithmancy Master, and Professor Sprout, the head of her former house, who was giving off a faint greenish smell.  "Call me Pommie," Professor Sprout hissed into her ear with a warm smile.  Professor Vector said nothing.  Alfie was out of sight on the left of Dumbledore.

Two seats down, Professor Flitwick was also out of sight - all except for the very tip of his very pointy hat, which bobbed happily up and down as he chatted with the heavy-set wizard beside him, middle-aged but still looking fairly active.  Here was a face she'd never seen before.  _Care of Magical Creatures_, she thought vaguely.  They always did have a higher turnover rate.  In any case, he made no lasting impression on her the way that her empty dinner plate did.  Her stomach rumbled.

She stared defiantly at the rippling blue banner over her head - _Welcome to Hogwarts -_ _Sorting Ceremony 1990_.  They were barely at Batwhack, Basil - Slytherin.  No surprise there, somehow.  Basil leered with joy and lumbered off to the far table to cheers and some polite hand-clapping from Snape.  _Why is it always the evil ones who go into Slytherin?_ she wondered quietly to herself.  She'd have to ask the Hat if she ever got the chance.  Slytherin had never entirely made sense to her.  It was so obviously a training ground for little hoods and Death Eaters.  It would cut the wizardly crime rate in half at least to simply get rid of it.

Professor Sprout broke out in a cheer for Fipp, Heather - Hufflepuff.  A nice, ordinary looking girl.  The kind who wouldn't celebrate her graduation several years later zipping around Hogsmeade around on a stolen broomstick guzzling spiked Butterbeer.  The kind whose sense of fun wasn't ganging up on a little old witch to transfigure her hat into a Virginia Creeper.  The normal kind.

"Isn't it such a joy, looking at all those happy, expectant little faces?" Sprout sighed nostalgically.

"It is indeed," agreed Flitwick beside her.  "You wouldn't happen to have that lovely thick encyclopedia of herbology of yours on you, would you?"

"Left it in the greenhouse," Sprout said apologetically.

"Ah, well," Flitwick shrugged.  "Just a thought."

"It's such a pity you weren't here last year," Sprout said with a sudden jab at Elly's ribs.  "Albus gave such a beautiful speech - it brought us all to tears."

"Four times," said Professor Vector with a curt nod.  Elly blinked and turned to look at her.

"Four times, yes," agreed Sprout.  She interrupted herself to send out another cheer for Maldoon, Clara.  "Where was I now?"

"Tears," said Elly.  _Forking yourself under the table - was it considered antisocial, psychotic behaviour if there was no one watching?_  Her fingers twitched under the table at the sight of Moonshine, Horace.  With his sniggering snitchy smile and beady blue eyes, he would have made a really dark horse Gryffindor.  _Why do we even need the hat?_

There was a drumroll, a conceited pause, the hall went silent, and then, here it was coming, here the Hat was quivering, here it was on the tip of his brim - _SLYTHERIN!_

There were cheers.  Snape clapped.


	6. Enter the Violins

"Albus told us that you'd be coming," Sprout confided to Elly as she tucked ravenously into the roast beef and cranberries. "It gave me such a nice quivery feeling to hear - to think that one of my old students was coming to teach. I'm so terribly proud of you, my dear. And on such short notice too, with that Montague, who used to do Muggle Studies all those years as peacefully as you please, up and leaving one morning to marry one of his case studies. Not that I blame him in the least -"

"But there were some who did," interrupted Flitwick gravely.

"Yes, I suppose there were," she sighed.

_Roast beef _and_ cranberries_ were the only two thoughts floating happily through Elly's head. "He got married?" she asked vaguely. She tried to imagine the slightly balding old Professor Montague of her past passionately sweeping his bride into his broom and flying away with her into the sunset, and failed miserably.

"To the sweetest, most charming Muggle you can imagine," said Sprout.

"She kept a corner shop," added Flitwick, "that sold newspapers and rubber chickens."

"He never did discover the purpose of those chickens," nodded Sprout. "He used to say that's what caught him in the first place. Of course, no one believed him, but we all make up these little stories to ourselves when we're in love, don't we?"

"Dumbledore gave him one as a wedding gift, I've heard," put in Flitwick. "I couldn't make it myself, not many of us could -"

Sprout nodded again wistfully. "I hope to see _your_ face here at Hogwarts for a long, long time though," she said with a playful smile: "Don't you go running off with the Muggle of your dreams any time soon."

Elly smiled back and tried to think of something witty and casual to say. She only came up with a somewhat guilty kind of heh-heh laugh and changed the subject. _Oh, look! Herring!_

There was a pause while Flitwick and Sprout took the opportunity to exchange knowing glances.

"And the Ancient Runes teacher - did she get married too?" Elly said abruptly.

Sprout's face suddenly took a turn for the serious. "Oh, no dear," she said solemnly, "she went insane."

Professor Vector helped herself to a spoonful of peanut-butter stuffed grapes. "Nine," she mumbled to herself, watching them roll across her plate, and was silent.

-----

_Nine_. The number of little blue hearts she had drawn around his name, not six months before.

_Dear Diary_, Elly wrote, with a vacant, shiny-eyed smile on her face, _I am in love_. _With the most perfect man in the world. Eddie & Elly 4ever!!! Ü Ü _

That's where the hearts came in.

Then she wrote a nice ten page essay on the shivery happy feeling she got whenever he looked in her direction and didn't even care how cheesy it was.

-----

"Well, didn't we all have an exciting time," Professor Flitwick chirped contentedly, patting his well-filled stomach. He had managed to herd both Alfie and Elly out into the hallway with him after the usual banqueting and speechery had let out. He talked quite happily the entire time, so engagingly that it had not yet occurred to either one of them to ask him where they were actually going.

"Those Sorting Ceremonies always bring a tear to my eye," he told them with a sigh, "Make me think of my own first day here at Hogwarts, they do - walking over to the hat as tall and proud as I possibly could, and then someone (a Gryffindor, no doubt) shouting out for me to stand up. The Hat came down all the way to my chin, I recall; I was half afraid that the thing might eat me up entirely. Ah, but I don't want to be boring you by blabbering on about ancient history now do I? We can all leave that quite happily to Professor Binns. This was all long, long before your time, believe me. And the _food_ - I must have swelled to at least _twice_ my size."

"Yes, it was delicious," Elly said distantly, wondering where her luggage had gone to and where she was going to be sleeping for the night. Alfie didn't seem to have heard a word that he had said, swaying gently, eyes barely open.

"You must be exhausted after such a long day," he nodded sympathetically. "But I had hoped I could detain you two from sleep for at least a little while - we're holding a little informal staff party tonight and we had all so hoped you could join us, get better acquainted all around."

"I-" Elly began.

"Oh, there's nothing to be worried about," Flitwick assured her. "I slipped Twinkle Dust into Snape's hot chocolate," he confided in a whisper. "Works like a charm every time."


End file.
